Read Online North by Night by Katherine Ayres - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katherine Ayres
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thank you so much. Could you please deliver the ones I’ve written?”
“I feel like a durned letter carrier,” he grumbled. “I’ll start charging for delivery.” He passed me another letter. “This here’s from Jonathan Clark. He hightailed it over to our place before breakfast. How’d you get him so riled up, Lucy? He breathed fire.”
“None of your business,” I said. My own cheeks flamed.
“Aw, Lucy, tell us,” Tom put in. “Will says you got that boy all harnessed and bridled. You don’t have to take the whip to him. Just give him a lump of sugar.” Tom grinned at me like a wicked, freckled elf.
“And what would you know about such lumps of sugar?”
“I can’t say.” He grinned again, and I mussed his hair.
“Did you write him back, Luce? If you send him a pile of kisses in your letter, he won’t be mad,” Will advised. He made loud kissing noises. Tom chimed in, and together they sounded like a wagon with squeaking wheels.
They stayed with Miss Aurelia and me for the midday meal. Later, though my letters burned in my pocket to be read, I felt a tug on my heart as Tom and Will drove away. I didn’t know just when I’d see them or the rest of my family again.
“Miss Aurelia, could I read my letters, please?”
“Certainly, Lucy dear. Take all the time you need.”
I retreated to my room and curled up on the featherbed. Before I opened a single letter I set them out in frontof me like a plate of sweets, choosing which to read first. My family’s, for my heart ached with missing them. Then Rebecca’s. Finally Jonathan Clark’s, for I wasn’t sure if his letter would be good news or bad.
19
January
Dear Lucinda
,
You must be chafing with this storm. I’ve never known you to sit happily indoors with untrodden snow out the window. And yet, as you tend to our neighbor, I’m sure you put other needs ahead of your own. I am proud, daughter, for your heart is large
.
Perhaps I might remind you of the good side of such a storm. Let yourself think of the natural world—how the brown bears curl deep in their winter dens and rest. All God’s creatures need such times of rest, as it girds them for the coming spring and for whatever journeys the warming weather will bring
.
So accept this respite as a gift for those birds and beasts whose travels are long and whose endurance might be nearing its end. For once the snow melts, the world will wake again with all its cares
.
Your brothers and I have used our time well. We mend harness and polish brasses by the fire. Your mother cooks and bakes, as if we need twice the feeding with the storm. But perhaps this is just as well, for she can send some of her cooking to you to lighten your burden of chores
.
You are in our thoughts daily, but never as much as in the evenings, when we gather around the hearth. Your mother and I take our turns reading aloud to the younger ones, but we missyour voice and the dramatic way you bring the simple words to life
.
We are just now reading some poems of Sir Walter Scott, and young Thomas has determined to memorize “The Lady of the Lake.” I guess that means he shall become a gentleman as well as a farmer, for in spite of William’s teasing, he labors hard over the pages
.
Your mother and I are well pleased with you and with Thomas, our family scholars. I would not be surprised to find that he practices his stanzas out in the barn while he tends to the beasts, both wild and tame. What do you suppose the horses make of all this reciting?
Your loving
Father
22
January
My dearest Lucy
,
Your papa has stolen all my news. For when snow blankets the earth for days on end, news grows scarce indeed. Mostly we must find ways to entertain ourselves
.
I have been teaching Miranda to use the needle. She often pricks her finger, but I’ve started her on dark cloth, so no spots will show. Do you recall the first sampler you stitched? I brought it out to show your sister so she’d understand that you too
“I feel like a durned letter carrier,” he grumbled. “I’ll start charging for delivery.” He passed me another letter. “This here’s from Jonathan Clark. He hightailed it over to our place before breakfast. How’d you get him so riled up, Lucy? He breathed fire.”
“None of your business,” I said. My own cheeks flamed.
“Aw, Lucy, tell us,” Tom put in. “Will says you got that boy all harnessed and bridled. You don’t have to take the whip to him. Just give him a lump of sugar.” Tom grinned at me like a wicked, freckled elf.
“And what would you know about such lumps of sugar?”
“I can’t say.” He grinned again, and I mussed his hair.
“Did you write him back, Luce? If you send him a pile of kisses in your letter, he won’t be mad,” Will advised. He made loud kissing noises. Tom chimed in, and together they sounded like a wagon with squeaking wheels.
They stayed with Miss Aurelia and me for the midday meal. Later, though my letters burned in my pocket to be read, I felt a tug on my heart as Tom and Will drove away. I didn’t know just when I’d see them or the rest of my family again.
“Miss Aurelia, could I read my letters, please?”
“Certainly, Lucy dear. Take all the time you need.”
I retreated to my room and curled up on the featherbed. Before I opened a single letter I set them out in frontof me like a plate of sweets, choosing which to read first. My family’s, for my heart ached with missing them. Then Rebecca’s. Finally Jonathan Clark’s, for I wasn’t sure if his letter would be good news or bad.
19
January
Dear Lucinda
,
You must be chafing with this storm. I’ve never known you to sit happily indoors with untrodden snow out the window. And yet, as you tend to our neighbor, I’m sure you put other needs ahead of your own. I am proud, daughter, for your heart is large
.
Perhaps I might remind you of the good side of such a storm. Let yourself think of the natural world—how the brown bears curl deep in their winter dens and rest. All God’s creatures need such times of rest, as it girds them for the coming spring and for whatever journeys the warming weather will bring
.
So accept this respite as a gift for those birds and beasts whose travels are long and whose endurance might be nearing its end. For once the snow melts, the world will wake again with all its cares
.
Your brothers and I have used our time well. We mend harness and polish brasses by the fire. Your mother cooks and bakes, as if we need twice the feeding with the storm. But perhaps this is just as well, for she can send some of her cooking to you to lighten your burden of chores
.
You are in our thoughts daily, but never as much as in the evenings, when we gather around the hearth. Your mother and I take our turns reading aloud to the younger ones, but we missyour voice and the dramatic way you bring the simple words to life
.
We are just now reading some poems of Sir Walter Scott, and young Thomas has determined to memorize “The Lady of the Lake.” I guess that means he shall become a gentleman as well as a farmer, for in spite of William’s teasing, he labors hard over the pages
.
Your mother and I are well pleased with you and with Thomas, our family scholars. I would not be surprised to find that he practices his stanzas out in the barn while he tends to the beasts, both wild and tame. What do you suppose the horses make of all this reciting?
Your loving
Father
22
January
My dearest Lucy
,
Your papa has stolen all my news. For when snow blankets the earth for days on end, news grows scarce indeed. Mostly we must find ways to entertain ourselves
.
I have been teaching Miranda to use the needle. She often pricks her finger, but I’ve started her on dark cloth, so no spots will show. Do you recall the first sampler you stitched? I brought it out to show your sister so she’d understand that you too
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